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In his heart.

He knew exactly what needed to be said, and he wasn’t afraid to say it.

They waded through the crowd, and he and his sister Camilla took their seats in the front row, on the far left.

The Four Corners people were on the right.

At the front were Denver, Landry, Justice and Daughtry King. Then there were Wolf, Sawyer and Elsie Garrett.

The McCloud family, which consisted of Taggart, Angus, Hunter, Lachlan and Brody.

And then there were the Sullivan sisters.

God knew he couldn’t tell them apart. Redheaded, all of them, and in floral dresses. There was one that was holding a baby, and sitting next to Angus McCloud. He’d heard through the grapevine that the McClouds and Sullivans had married up to one another. He knew that the oldest one was Fia, and she was probably the one seated at the far end with a neutral expression on her face. She had the look of an oldest child—he should know. There was another staring off into space, twisting her hair around her finger.

And there was a third, with her red hair tamed fiercely into braids, and very large glasses perched on the end of her nose. She was wearing a baggy set of overalls, the kind that he had never understood, because they made you question whether or not you were looking at a woman or a toddler—and she had a notebook on her lap. She was scribbling furiously on the pages, and looking around the room, pushing her glasses up her nose, before looking down again.

She had sharp features, and she reminded him a bit of an ermine.

And in turn, reminded him a bit of her father.

Brian Sullivan was a man that Levi wished he had never met.

He had screwed Levi over every which way, and had dragged his name through the mud on top of it. It might’ve all happened fifteen years ago, but he didn’t care.

It was as fresh for him now as it had been back then, when he’d fully realized just how much he’d been duped.

It had been a shit show, and he was still recovering from it.

He looked again at the one in the braids.

He should probably know who they were. He had been to their house a time or two back in the day. But they’d all been little girls. And they bore no resemblance to the children he had known then.

“Wooow,” said Camilla, to his right. “There’s a lot of beefcake in here.”

He grimaced. “Could you not?”

“I could not,” said Camilla. “But I’m enjoying myself.”

“Well, I doubt that Landry King is going to get up and put on a show for you. More likely he’s going to get up and talk bullshit.”

“You really hate all of them, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. They’re basically the big evil Death Star of ranching. Why the hell would I like any of them?”

“I don’t know. Because maybe they’re nice people, and maybe you have beers with them sometimes down at the bar.”

He shifted in his seat. “I do not.”

“You’re so rigid,” said Camilla.

“I am. And I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think about that.”

“Charming.”

“I don’t exist to charm you, Cam. Whatever you might think.”

They took their seats, and it was Landry King who got up and gave an intro, presiding over the meeting and giving a rundown of the things that would be covered. The first order of business was the road.